


Stand in the Shadows of Gotham

by Threee



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abandonment, Crime, Good Lila Rossi, Implied/Referenced Suicide, MariBat, Organized Crime, Some Humor, You know Gotham stuff, but thats a good thing here, hopefully, technically much much worse lila
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threee/pseuds/Threee
Summary: Marinette, just another child abandoned on the streets of Gotham. She saw the horrors of Gotham, saw what could happen to her and lived it, she swore it would happen to no one else. If Marinette had to fight the shadows of Gotham, stand with them, or help them she will. Marinette will do whatever it takes to be the light to the night of Gotham.
Comments: 41
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

Marinette can’t remember not living on the streets of Gothams Crime Alley. She just remembers standing in an alley balling her eyes out when she realized her mother wasn't coming back for her. She doesn't remember a thing of her father, it not being outside the realm of possibility he had never known of her. It also wasn’t impossible he knew and didn’t care; it would actually be more likely.

She, like most the kids  _ living _ in crime alley, had learned quickly how to survive. She could duck police and villains alike(although it was often hard to separate the two). It also helped that she had uncanny luck that her few friends always lamented over. If you could consider living in crime alley lucky at all. However, she often had trash cans fall in the way of people chasing her and occasionally finding a loaf of bread in the trash that wasn't completely covered in mold.

Like everyone else, she learned how to toughen up quickly. To send a glare deadly enough to have grown men cowering. To scratch and fight and make someone else  _ bleed _ if it meant you got away. She learned not to flinch or feel sick when searching a dead body for anything of value.

However, none of that changed who she was. She was still soft and kind to her friends and strangers that meant her no harm. She would promise her friends she already ate when she gave them all her food. She would give her warmest coat to someone new to the streets or someone who had become so weather by them they didn’t have the strength to go on. She knew where to place her kindness and offered it freely to whoever deserved it.

That's why when one of her friends ran up to her, covered in blood and bruises, crying about how they couldn't save the other, Marinette did not hesitate. It was dangerous to go up against this mob, sure, but she couldn’t stand by and watch her friend be sold to become who knows what. Actually she knew exactly what and there was no way she would let it happen.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Marinette whispers to her ragtag group of friends and allies that had followed her.

“We know,” Butterfingers grins, their signature move was pickpocketing something worthless and dropping it right in front of the victim. Then someone else would swoop in and actually steal their wallet or something while they were distracted. It was a risky move and they only used it in emergencies. Butterfingers was brave enough every time to risk the police or a beating at being caught, letting them survive another day.

“You’d do the same for us,” Milo shrugs, they call him that because that was the only thing he would say to her after taking to the streets after his parent's murder. Apparently it was his happiest memory sitting down with his mother to drink a mugful wrapped in a thin blanket on a cold winters night. It had taken Marinette half an hour of running to lose the police as they chased her down for stealing a carton of milk and a tin of milo. Milo had been the newest after her to be let into their little gang. That night they drank milk (that was only still cold thanks to the snowy winter) straight from the bottle because they had no cups, using their hands to scoop up the milo. That was the best night in recent memory as Milo talked to them all for the first time and their family got just a little bigger that day.

“Plus you’re going to need us,” Knuckles had been there the longest out of all of them. Not because she was necessarily much older(not that they or she actually knew her proper age) but she had been living in crime alley much younger than the rest of them. Long enough she didn’t remember a thing and her name had long since faded leaving only her nickname of Knuckles. She had been the one to find Marinette and teach her how to survive. She was the first to raise a fist against anyone that would cross them and would sooner die than admit defeat, “let’s go get our boy,”

Stray, they had taken stray and for that Marinette vowed to destroy them. Stray was the kindest of all of them, even her. He had been on the streets for a long time but from the sounds of it liked the streets better than wherever he came from. He was the peacekeeper not only in the group but out of it. When they got into fights Stray would be the one to beg for forgiveness when no one else would sacrifice their pride. Honestly, he was the only reason they had lived this long and they needed to get him back otherwise they weren’t going to last long. 

Marinette had too strong a sense of justice to even pretend to agree with older stronger people that they were wrong for getting in their way. Butterfingers would sooner use anger as a distraction to try and nick something than actually give an effort to say sorry. Milo’s apology would never be taken seriously as he smirks and gives thinly veiled insults. Knuckles simile wouldn't allow herself to stoop that low and would sooner die fighting than admit defeat. So yeah they needed Stray back to be their voice of reason. I mean just look at what they’re doing with him only been gone a day.

They stood on a roof across from where everyone in crime alley knew was a slave auction house but no one would dare say it out loud. Across from the was a window that was the best entry to the building, besides from well the door. A lot of places like this had an entry point less secured than the others, systems set on high alert, and designed to let Batman breakthrough. It was better to trick him into an entrance point far enough away from the auction the clients could get away and worth losing a few people to sell if it meant less property damage. Marinette had to admit it was a smart plan. It’s so much easier to trick people into getting you to do what you want when they think you’re dumb.

“Alright follow my lead,” Marinette doesn't attempt to dissuade them as she starts for the window. There's luckily a washing line that attaches to the other building just a few meters away from where they want to go. Marinette walks along the line like a tightrope, convincing herself it was no different from the chainlink fence she would play on in an alleyway they often hung out in. It dips under her weight but she cautiously marks he way across. 

Reaching the building isn’t much of a relief as there is only a thin rim along the edge that leads to the window, a few heads higher than her. She takes a deep breath and jumps, fingers catching on the brick ridge, definitely scratching up the tips. She hauls herself up with just her arms using all the strength the few years spent in crime alley had given her. She sighs in relief, only slightly, as she has to hug the wall to keep balanced on the ledge. She glances back to see Knuckles swinging her way across the wire similar to monkey bars. 

Marinette shuffles along to the window. She would have to disable the alarm before the others go there. Fortunately, she had once met a person form an ex-gang or mob or something who had delighted in explaining to her the inner workings of most security systems as they ate some stale bread she shared with them. She does her best with the few nails and wires she has stored in her jacket. However confident she is that the alarms are disabled she still holds her breath when sliding the window open. She stares into the dark hallway with bated breath for a miniature, waiting for someone to jump out and shoot her. When no one does she hesitantly steps inside. 

Knuckles swings in seconds after her. They both help the others climb into the window. Lucky they did or Milo would be splattered against the pathway after he slipped on the edge. They only get a second to relax before they are tracking down the halls cautiously waiting for someone to come at them with a gun and try to sell them off too. The first thing they come across isn’t Stray but a series of lavish looking rooms instead. One has a desk and fancy chairs, Marinette is drawn to it and has learned better than to deny her instincts.

She creeps into the office against hissed protest. Marinette searches through the draws of the desk, jangling a ring full of keys in triumph. Her friends relax but she’s not satisfied yet. She noses around finding a cliche safe behind a painting. 

“No, I know what you’re thinking, and don't you dare Lucky,” Knuckles says slipping into the room so no one walks by the hall and sees them. Marinette does dare, she really does. But she doesn't know the passcode and that's a problem. Luckily for her, the boss or whatever thought this through or really didn’t. There's a hidden safety latch that she pulls and it releases the safe from the wall. It must be a precaution in case they need to make a break for it but it suits her just fine. 

Milo tells her off even as he stuffs the large safe into his ragged backpack. The corners tear the edges because of its size and they need to help Milo regain his balance when picking it up. They head down the hall again, going down the stairs to hopefully find Stray somewhere in the basement. They get downstairs and sure enough, there are people in cages and chains all around, Stray in one pushed off to the corner on the opposite end of the room. 

They dart into the shadows behind some crates. There's a few tired looking guards and echoing sobs and pleads that go completely ignored by them. They try to track there way around the room. Hiding behind cages wherever the guards look over, hoping it creates the illusion of them being inside to a passing glance. It works, they just have to be careful to avoid them as they pace around the room.

“Please,” Marinette startles, Butterfingers thankfully pushing a hand over her mouth to stop the yelp as someone reaches through the bars to grasp at her clothes, “Please,  _ Please _ , please get me out of here,”

“I- I  _ can’t _ ,” Marinette’s voice breaks, tears pricking her eyes.

“Let me out or I’ll scream,” They warn, face grave and ashen.

“Please,” Marinette begs, the hands forming a vice grip around her arms and legs, “I can’t save you,”

“Yes you can!” and could she? They came here to save Stray but that didn’t mean these people didn’t matter. Why did they deserve to be left here while Stray got to go free? Who was looking out for  _ them? _ If- if Stray didn’t have them would he be left here too? If they got caught would anyone come to save them? 

No.

“What’s going on over there?!” A guard barks, the person freezes, and Marinette breaks out of their hold stumbling back. She freezes, breath only getting quicker as footsteps approach. They were going to get caught! They were going to get caught and no one would save them. There was no one looking out for kids like them, they only had each other.

“Hey!” The footsteps stop as someone bursts through the door, “Someone broke into the bosses office! The safe's gone!”

The footsteps retreat, running out the room and back up the stairs. She sighs, making her way to Stray.

“Lucky!” Stray smiles up at her, tears tracks trailing down his face.

“Hey, we’re here to get you out of here,” Marinette takes the keys sorting through them to find the right one.

“And the others?” Stray asks, and yeah everyone around them is yelling out, pleading to be let out. Kids their age and younger, adults that hardly qualify as such none of them deserving of such a fate.

“Everyone,” She promises, getting a surprised look from everyone else. She shrugs them off and hands off the keys to help get everyone out. All in all, there's around fifteen people and each gives her a hug, crying the way Stray had done when he got out.

They use their distraction of the safe to make their way out of the building. They find the doors this time, only two guards but both with guns. They could rush them but someone would definitely get hurt. If- if she ran along the wall she might be able to avoid getting spotted but what then? How was she supposed to outmatch two armed guards? She didn’t have that raw power. It wasn't fair that two random guys with nothing remarkable about them were able to hold her entire life in their hands. No, it wasn't fair and she vowed to change that if they ever got out of here. But first, she had to take a chance.

“It’s alright little one,” The person who had grabbed out at her puts a hand firmly on her shoulder, stopping Marinette from walking into the light, “I’ll take care of this,”

They were so young. Not as young as Marinette but still firmly in their teens. And here they were running at two fully armed guards with a war cry fitting of the mightiest warrior. The first guy is taken off guard, barely able to raise his gun before they are trying to grapple it out of their hands. A few others rush forward with the distraction. Marinette sticks behind the group with her friends running forward and sticking together. They trip up the second guard and someone starts bashing their head in with their fist, a pool of blood steadily growing. 

A gunshot rings and they all freeze. Looking behind them, the grappling for the gun with the first guard is over now, it kicked across the room while the other stands over the guards' body. The person stares down in shock so Marinette grabs their hand and runs out the door as they all run to freedom. Most people break off, shouting their thanks over their shoulders as they run in opposite directions. Marinette leads their little gang and their tag-along into an alley far enough away that they can catch their breath without fear.

“That was crazy!” Milo yells, after a solid five minutes of silence.

“You guys are so cool,” Stray shouts right back, “How did you even get in there?!”

“There was a window and- are you ok!” Marinette yells, catching the person whose name she hadn’t even learned yet. She falls under their weight, shifting to try and lower them to the ground more gently than just crashing, “Whats-”

Marinette cuts herself off, pulling her hand away from their stomach red with blood. The gunshot hadn’t been for the guard. The gunshot hadn’t been for the guard! It hadn’t been for a man who chose to work to sell people into a horrible life of slavery for what? Some extra cash? Pathetic. How many lives had he ruined? How could he live while this person, this innocent person bled out in a random alleyway of Gotham on an unremarkable night?

“Stay with us, we’ll get you to the hospital!” Marinette exclaims trying to staunch the blood flow.

“It won’t work,” They just smile vaguely, staring vacantly up at the sky, “They don’t care about people like me, people like us,”

“I care, I  _ care _ ,” And the tears flowing down her cheeks are proof enough, “So please just stay with me,”

“The stars are so beautiful tonight,” Looking up the night was full of smog and darkness the same way it always was in Gotham. Quite fitting for the city really not letting in even a sparkle of light. Looking back down their eyes were clouded over, Gotham has taken the light from their eyes as well.


	2. Chapter 2

As it turns out a slavers safe tends to have a lot of money if you know how to get it out. They try every code they can think of, eventually just resorting to hitting it over and over again. This obviously doesn't work. They keep it safe for a few weeks trying to think of something that can help. The answer comes one week when they are forced to hide in a car yard wandering around for a few hours to make sure their followers were gone. It’s then they come across the crusher that they have a brilliant idea.

Breaking the lock to the control room is easier than the safe and before long they have crushed the safe just enough to fish notes from the cracks made. It’s amazing, more money than any of them have even ever seen and none of them know what to do with it. Milo is the one to suggest they need a place to stay, the only problem being none of them are even over 11, and getting a house might be hard.

It might be hard for them but not hard for the random drug addict they give a hundred dollars to go buy the shadiest abandon warehouse(even by abandon warehouse standards) in Gotham on their behalf. It doesn't cost that much at all. Even gangs and mafia not wanting to do anything with the supposed cursed building. They had been seriously warned that it was haunted and cursed bad luck on all that entered. Well, they lived in a society with Superman and Wonderwoman so she didn’t doubt it was possible. She did doubt that whatever could happen wasn't worse than living in the streets and was assured that her naturally good luck would cancel whatever bad luck out.

There might be something to the rumor, the first few weeks when they keep traveling to tips to bring whatever salvageable furniture back mysterious things happen. Stuff falling from nowhere, the seemingly mostly stable furniture collapses, and no matter how many times she looks there are always more bloodstains on the walls. But she’s never one to be rude. She starts with an apology and an explanation of why they have to live there. It eventually just morphs into a onesided conversation she has with herself every night. This goes on for weeks, the strange happening reduce, and every night Marinette will spend at least an hour talking to the air. If someone heard her, great. If they didn’t? Well, it was nice to just let everything out.

She speaks about her past. What’s happened as she lives on the streets, but those are just footnotes. What she really talks about it that night. The night she had held that dying kid in her arms, whose name she didn’t even know, and no one cared to remember. She spoke about her regrets, her fears, and most of all her plans. She knows she can’t save everyone no matter how much she wants to it just will never be possible. But she doesn't want anyone to ever feel as hopeless as she did. To think that no one was coming for them. She wanted to give them just the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, somehow, someone would save them. That they wouldn't have to be carted away. That they wouldn't have to bleed out in the alley with no one to remember them. 

After a few weeks, the anomalies stop. She’s a bit worried at first as it had done well to keep people at bay. That fear is apparently unfounded as one day a few thugs wonder just a little too close to them and mysteriously an old forgotten create falls out a window, almost crushing them. 

They fall into a semblance of normal. It isn’t warm during the winter but at least now they can buy as many fluffy blankets as they like, making a tactical fort out of them to keep heat in. They also have food for the first time not having to go hungry for once. However, they are cautious. It was a lot of money but there's five of them and it wouldn't last the rest of their lives. No, they need a way to keep earning money. The thought of school is quickly passed over. They would get found out and it probably wouldn’t help anyway given where they’ve come from. 

None of them really want to turn to a life of crime(stealing and back-alley brawls didn’t count in their books, that was just survival) but had accepted long ago that was the only path for them. However with the money, they have hopefully they don’t have to align themselves with someone they hate, they can actually form their own path. And just like that, they form a gang, a proper gang this time.

The first order of business is arming themselves. They get guns, of course, it looking a bit odd to have a gaggle of children with guns but not  _ that _ odd in Gotham. It was Butterfingers who also suggested knives so they didn’t have to buy more ammo all the time(Marinette hoped they would never have to buy ammo, then again there were some people they deserved to waste it on). 

Their first order of business was a small gang aways away from crime alley but know for picking on the kids in the area either forcing them to join or pay or even just rough them up for no reason. It had been knuckles idea to go after them first, rather foolishly, but they succeeded. A few scratches and bruises to show for it, but the other gang was in hospital so they got off fairly easily. They also got into all their funds that they had weasled away mostly from children. It was Marinette who insisted they give some back, Stray quickly backing her up. Milo and Butterfingers had sighed but agreed and Knuckles seemed indifferent.

However, Marinette thinks she won them over when the kids they handed the money out to looked like they were the greatest heroes in the world. 

That turned out to be one of the best decisions they had ever made. Within a week their little gang had tripled and been gratefully allowed into the base without issue. It lets them pull off bigger jobs even though nobody there is even a teen yet they make do. It actually turns out to be their strength. Street kids hear a lot of gossip, it pays to have your ear close to the ground to know if Joker set up a new base a block over and to avoid the place like the plague. This helps them know what to avoid, and targets they can handle. It’s actually painfully easy to sneak close to any gang the worst they usually get is yelled at to scram as they scope out the place. If it’s really bad sometimes they have to hightail it out of there, yelling that they were just looking for food. However most of the time they don’t get a second glance.

It used to annoy her living on the street that everyone could overlook them. But if it meant she could use that to blend into the background and quietly take over gang after gang who was she to complain?

There came a problem with keeping their territory. It was kind of hard when you’re whole thing was disappearing into the background. Then again they didn’t really need the territory, the warehouse was big enough for their growing gang to live comfortably and disputes over territory didn’t appeal to her anyway. They became something of an urban myth. A phantom gang that was known for swooping in, dismantling the entire gang then disappearing without a trace. The reality was they were probably close by when the police showed up laughing at the idiots who were getting arrested only to be told to scram. 

People would reclaim the area they had taken over and would soon enough be taken down again. It became something of a superstition and eventually, people stopped trying to move in effectively leaving their territory alone. Many had attributed it to the haunted building as it was the area surrounded by it that no gang seemed to last more than a few months after moving in. There were apparently reports of creepy children giggling from the building which was a little rude, she didn’t think they were creepy at all.

While the local gangs fear them the children love them. Many still live in crime alley but drop by when it’s particularly cold or they just can’t find food anywhere. There are those that don’t want to align themselves with their gang and that's fine by Marinette she wasn't trying to force them into anything and assured them they could stay regardless. Still despite that most still wanted to help them. It mostly entailed getting information across the city and occasionally backing them up when there were too many men to fight on their own.

Marinette still talked to the building every night. It had morphed more into her planning together with the information she received throughout the day to try and figure out what was happening in Gotham that a kid from the street wouldn’t usually know. It was slow going but Marinette hadn’t forgotten her goals. Every day more people would come to her, asking for help or telling her about those that needed help. She couldn’t help them all, not yet but one day she would.

“Lucky, come on you need to relax,” Butterfingers leans against her as she pours over plans.

“We need to hit this gang before the end of the month if we want to buy enough food,” Marinette snaps back, no one here going to take offense at her tone.

“Yeah I know but you also need some fun,” Butterfingers tries to slide the paper away from her, but she slaps her hand down on it.

“Marinette?” Stray asks coming to sit in front of her, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing really,” Marinette sighs, scrubbing her hands over her face.

“Lucky if you have plans let us know,” Knuckles takes her side and soon enough she’s surrounded.

“... It’s not a plan more of an idea,”

“Alright, shoot,” Milo raises a brow, clearly she wasn't getting out of this one.

“That night we broke those people out?” They all nod, “We almost got caught and I realized no one was coming for us, how- how many other people have felt like that?”

“Lucky, that’s not your fault, plus you helped all those people,” Stray brushes some hair out her face.

“Not all,” She whispers, then louder, “I never want anyone to feel that way so I have to- I have to find a way they’ll always have hope someone will save them,”

“Are you going to become a vigilante?” Knuckles asks, concerned but Marinette shakes her head and she relaxes.

“Batman exists and I didn’t once think he was coming for us,” No it hadn’t occurred to her until after that was even a remote option, “No that’s not good enough I need to be better, someone with power, enough power to make a change,”

“And that’s never going to happen officially when you grew up in crime alley,” Stray supplies, because no it wasn't an option, getting a regular job was hardly an option so she had no chance of becoming a politician.

“Exactly,”

“So what, you’re going to go the mafia route?” Milo chuckles, the others cracking a smile.

“Yeah, that was the plan,” They all look at her like she’s grown a second head.

“You can't just-” Butterfingers cuts themselves off, “Will you change your mind?”

“No I’ve already decided,” Marinette says resolutely, she knew everything it entailed, nothing could prepare her but she was resolute, “The only issue is getting there,”

“No kidding,” Knuckles huffs, leaning backward.

“Well, stick to it I guess,” Stray shrugs, patting her on the shoulder, “You’re Lucky you’re bound to get your chance,”

And she did, she would. And it would change the world as they know it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should probably add warnings for this chapter-- should have probably done that from the beginning:   
> Blood, death, slavery  
> nothing too graphic hopefully but I'll sum up this chapter at the beginning of the next chapter so all good if you want to skip.

It had been two years. One year, and they had officially been deemed the phantom gang, mysteriously no one else knowing how to join but some random kids in crime alley. By the second year, the phantom gang had earned a reputation. You did not cross them, no matter what. The only problem was no one seemed to know when they crossed them.

At twelve Marinette was running the phantom gang. They were decently large at this point and there were even members older than her now. They scoffed whenever they realized she was the leader but that quickly changed as she led them into well-crafted plans that often left their own without a scratch and the other side in the hospital.

She had a reputation among her own people for her convoluted plans. No one truly knew what she was up to, not because she was keeping them secret but whenever someone asked they could rarely keep up. Still, each plan worked perfectly and soon people learn not to question her when she told them to hold a hose and a jar of honey at a random street corner. 

They had no need to question her but should probably be cautious of the others who often played practical jokes on the new recruits telling them to go and do something ridiculous for the plan(Yes more ridiculous that a hose and a jar of honey). Marinette always told them off and apologized. Still, they had formed this together, and as such everyone was a high ranking member.

Knuckles was their offense on most missions. She lead the strongest or scrappiest of the gang when fighting was just part of the deal. They came back covered in blood but grinning with the assurance most of it wasn't their own. They didn’t want to waste money on ammo, rather spend it on more blankets or beds. This had lead to a sort of signature, if a gang was taken down and there were no gunshot wounds on those left it was usually a safe assumption the phantom gang had paid a visit or Batman, apparently the distinction was giving police quite a bit of trouble. Instead, knuckles trained with swords, batons, daggers, and all number of weapons they had mostly stolen. They were also harder to trace so that was a plus.

Butterfingers was in charge of the financials or procuring the financials. While Marinette's plans were set into motion they would be slipping through the chaos breaking through safes or nabbing anything of value. That's mostly where their weapon stores came from. They had made a small team of the best pickpockets that joined them. They trained together sharing their secrets and on their ‘nights out’ often came home piled high with wads of cash and jewelry that everyone knew better than to ask about.

Milo became her number two, or her assistant as he would joke. He was better at getting to the point with people, not being afraid to tell them off where Marinette would like to ask nicely. He looked after most of the errant members of their gang keeping them inline while also being a complete jokester. New recruits often wouldn’t take him seriously, but the older ones knew better than to slack off because they knew they couldn't get away with it.

Stray was in charge of looking after everyone, in the gang and not. He made sure the warehouse was stocked with enough beds blankets and food. Becoming their finance manager in many ways but they rarely argued over the right way to spend money.

There were many people that joined their gang, either out of spite or to gain a little power in a city where they were powerless. Still, Marinette freely offered shelter to kids living on the streets if they wanted to join or not. They would often help out by cooking for everyone or making sure the place stayed clean. There were many creatives kids that took up sewing and knitting so they could cut down expenses on clothes. They were also allowed to paint the walls, provided they ask Marinette first.

Marinette would actually ask the building itself, having decided long ago that yes there was something living here. They had set up a system of communication, simply pushing a pen off the table for yes. She got to know some things about it and had learned that it absolutely loved all the kids running around, it told her it liked the name they had given it ‘Home’, Marinette though it was fitting.

To the outside world, Home was a terrifying thing. The spirit curse, whatever was thought to be the cause of the phantom gang, some rumors even circulating that the phantom gang was the spirits of people that died there cursing all of Gotham. Marinette thought that was rather a stretch, Gotham had already cursed itself.

She always had information flowing to her. Passing whispers, spying and second-hand accounts of scummy parents. She had heard it all and pierced it all together at this point she probably had a better idea of what was going on in Gotham than even Batman did.

This comes in especially helpful when someone comes banging on her door one day. She answers it telling Home not to do anything rash. The guy smugly tells her he knows their gang is just a bunch of kids and is ready to hand them all in to the police if they don’t compensate him. Marinette merely asks to be excused for a minute. Coming back soon after with a complete file. The guy runs a small business as a front for drugs and had many fall guys but she had evidence to put him behind bars for life. She then asks him to keep quiet and for a cut of the profits or else, she’ll go straight to the police with this. Needless to say, they were a bit richer that day with at least one steady source of income.

That event triggered Marinette’s blackmail dealings. Sometimes she uses it to destroy their business and take all their revenue. Other times she deems them not doing enough harm that she can leave them be and have them keep sending her money. Without having to focus month to month on how they’re going to feed so many people it gives Marinette more time to focus on her original goal.

She has been keeping an eye on a particular slaving ring for a while now. It was part of the one that took Stray and she had been waiting for a chance to take them down. Steadily approaching was a large event, for their highest-profile clients. It would have the most people for sale and it was an event they depended on year to year to fund them. Without it, they would be crippled, and then Marinette could destroy them once and for all.

First, she regretfully places some of her own in their folds. They had assured her it was fine, each having their own personal vendetta against slavers and happy to be more involved in their downfall. She of course was one of those people. It had been argued for months that she was needed in case the plan went haywire, she had argued that’s exactly why she was needed inside. In the end, she and Stray got purposefully abducted.

The problem was that for these big events people were picked out weeks if not months in advance and there was no way Marinette was going to let them stay locked up for so long. So the day of the event they intercepted a truck transporting a fair chunk of people, enough they needed to be replaced. Street kids excelled at a number of things, stripping all the tires of a truck in under three minutes was just one. While the guards were distracted it was easy enough to knock one out and... Voila! the truck was open and there were people pouring out, running into back alleys with little hope of catching them. 

They needed to find replacements and fast. The man in charge of this particular load had promised for the best. And well if there happened to be a few street kids milling a bit too near no one needed to know. They kicked and struggled and cried but really they were all trying to grab hold of the keys, many from Butterfingers little group. It wasn't the end of the world if they couldn’t grab them but it would certainly be easier.

They didn’t manage to grab any but they didn’t need to-- apparently, these guys were idiots. When they arrived at the venue they were thrown into a random bathroom and told to clean up. It was fancy, clearly meant for a guest they must not have anything suitable downstairs or were trying to avoid getting caught. Either way, it was a simple matter of crowding together so someone could duck down through the vents.

Suitably cleaned they were taken downstairs to the lineup. They really were idiots not even bothering to do a headcount. She actually wished they’d known they would be so reckless it would have made this next part easier. The thing is when you want to break out of something you bring the kids that are best at picking locks; and when you don’t check if someone is hiding something in their mouth, well that just makes the next part all the easier. 

Everyone’s hands were free within a few hours, having to work at it while guards glanced away. Sometimes there would need to be a distraction to give them enough time. 

They didn’t break free of the cuffs, pretending to still be held. Marinette had learned from last time that it’s better to not let your fellow prisoners know you’re escaping until you can get them out. They bide their time, Marinette hopes the person they sent through the vents has managed to open the side door but it wasn't disastrous if they didn’t. In fact, Marinette was quite assured it was impossible to fail. She had layered plan upon plan the only determining factor at this point was how many people would die and how many would be their own.

The party started, their suffering being more like a side entertainment for the night than the usual auctions. They laughed and conversed merrily meanwhile there was a hoard of kids breaking through every back door, taking down each guard silently. If they had intercepted the arms deal for most of them a week before to replace bullets with blanks? No one had to know. They claim the entire backstage swiftly and quietly.

“Hey there, having fun?” Knuckles helps her up, breaking off the last of the chains.

“Not as much as you,” Marinette smiles, blood splattered on her clothes that anyone in crime alley had long become desensitized to.

“Tell me about it,” Around them, people are being released, told to hush on their thanks as most of Knuckles crew takes their places, giving out clothes. The boss would likely be quite surprised that they made a last-minute decision to change into clothes, but by the time he realized he’d have bigger problems at hand. It also happened to be the perfect way to hide weapons. Marinette takes over the organization directing them on the best path to escape and sending them off with a few guards. 

“Are you an angel?” A girl, older than her asks with wide eyes. Marinette smiles kindly, it’s laughable but this girl didn’t deserve to be laughed at.

“I’m a protector of people like us,” She says loud enough to carry over the entire room, Milo often laughed at her inspirational speeches so she decided to keep it short, “If that makes me your Angel so be it, but make no mistake I will not treat those who oppose me with the same courtesy, I will easily change to a demon if pushed,”

Those who don't know her look with awe. Those that do roll their eyes and whisper lame. She snarks right back the room-clearing of anyone not in the Phantom Gang. They are supposed to keep to a schedule after all. Marinette takes the front of the crowd, her friends take her sides and the others line up behind them. They walk out onto the stage splitting the room with heads bowed and unlocked chains on their writs. There are murmurs discussing which is the best. Marinette can see the orchestrator of the whole event sitting smugly just in front of her, oblivious to their broken forces behind the stage. 

She smirks right back at him, his face dropping. She drops her cuffs with a resounding clang quickly echoed by everyone dropping theirs in unison. The sound rings out silencing the room.

“Guards!” The boss calls first, a bit bored. That boredom is replaced as throngs of kids come out the woodwork to quickly stab anyone holding a gun in the neck. People are shouting now, surrounded by bloodied children, with their leaders in the center, watching over the crowd satisfied. 

“You’re all pathetic I was going to make some big speech but none of you will be alive to remember it,” Wails ring out across the room, some try to bolt but that is instantly discouraged as they get stabbed in the back, “Instead I’m talking to every kid whoever had to fear that they would be standing here and that no one would save them, I’m here to promise I will always be willing to help them even when no one else will, and this will prove it to all of Gotham,”

Marinette throws her knife, it goes straight through the skull of the boss. That invites carnage, people jump down from the stage slicing at or bashed in heads with bats. She stands on the stage looking over the bloodbath with her friends. She finds it funny she had been called an angel as blood splatters up onto the stage, slashing across her feet and dress. Then again.

You can’t have creation without destruction.

**Author's Note:**

> what's everyone thinking? Wanted to try a different writing style(aka taking it seriously or something like that) and this seemed like the fic to do it.


End file.
